kick flavor - real boston richey lyrics
[intro]
huh
(ddot cold as a motherf*cker, on god), yeah
huh
yeah, b*tch, huh, uh, uh
yeah
yeah, hold on
come on, bring it in
alright, right there, turn it up
yeah, hold on, get like this
brrt, ooh
[chorus]
kick flavor, i’m the sh*t, ain’t i?
used to post up on the block with a big banger
p*ssy jit, i done growed up, now i’m the sh*t, ain’t i?
bought the b*tch a car and bought her bags, but can’t sh*t change her
finally done ran it up, now i’m tryna get a crib in coral gables
super piped up, get stupid, i’ll bring a table, set the table
i seen a n*gga slimin’ a n*gga he grew up with just for the paper
me and my brother, we locked forevеr, this sh*t ain’t cain and abel, uh
[verse]
i done seen a n*gga i love call thе tip line
my dog cuffed a ho, but when it came to my b*tch, we flipped mine
seen a n*gga do a drill, then pulled up and tried to switch irons
me and you, we ain’t the same, my opps, i done k!lled mines
so what you think i’ma do ’bout my baby, you abort mines?
leave the club drunk, come home, eat it like a pork rind
they see this whip i’m ridin’ in, they can’t afford mine
i only’ll claim a bad b*tch, none of these wh0res mines
mm, sh*t i think i want the virgil handbag
i’m on n*ggas’ tops, same place where the b*tch lace at
all them n*ggas that slept on me, p*ssy n*gga, this the payback
poppin’ too much sh*t in the city, same place i caught my case at
different n*gga, i still catch plays where i f*ckin’ lay at
the feds listenin’, i take that back, they say i shouldn’t even say that
i hit the hood, i ask them young n*ggas what the f*ck is payback?
i’m in mia with a coke*bottle*shape b*tch, like where your waist at?
a different type of n*gga
real rich n*gga and i’m playin’ with different type of figures
a different type of head ’cause i’m totin’ a different type of pistol
hold on, ain’t no rap n*gga, i go by a different type of system, uh
deray don’t answer, i call my mama phone like, “mom, where ray at?”
n*gga ain’t swingin’ the strap the right way, n*gga, i pull up and take that
i told that b*tch i was on the edge, not talkin’ where my tape at
caught me down, my b*tch cheated on me, i took her straight back
came through, sprayed the ghost gun, tell them crackers to trace that
i been a big blood, you could pull up, ask k stacks
baby girl, your p*ssy good, why would you waste that?
waste that p*ssy on a broke n*gga, it’s hard to face that
[chorus]
kick flavor, i’m the sh*t, ain’t i?
used to post up on the block with a big banger
p*ssy jit, i done growed up, now i’m the sh*t, ain’t i?
bought the b*tch a car and bought her bags, but can’t sh*t change her
finally done ran it up, now i’m tryna get a crib in coral gables
super piped up, get stupid, i’ll bring a table, set the table
i seen a n*gga slimin’ a n*gga he grew up with just for the paper
me and my brother, we locked forever, this sh*t ain’t cain and abel
[outro]
(ddot cold as a motherf*cker, on god)
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